The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6)

by Rebecca Ruger

  “I dinna need anything fancy. Aye, but there is the market over at Carryd.”

  “Let’s go then. I haven’t seen a market in years.”

  “Suppose you’ll need a wedding gown anyway, aye?”

  “Good heavens, Elle. One thing at a time. I haven’t thought that far yet.”

  Another frown and more unsolicited advice came. “Ye can no’ wed the MacBriar in that.”

  “Thank you, Eleanor.”

  Oh, what a day!

  WHEN KATIE ARRIVED at the hall for supper that night, Maddie flitted by with a tray of candles in her hands.

  “Aye, you’ll be at the family table tonight, lass. You and Henry.” And she disappeared, gone to the kitchens.

  Katie would have followed. Of late, she’d gotten into the habit of going directly there, to see what help she might give, usually only charged with delivering platters and trenchers to tables as the meal was served.

  But the mistress’s words, reflecting her change in circumstance, rather floored her. Stunned, she spit out a short burst of laughter. She really needed to pull her head from the clouds, and give some greater thought to the bigger picture, leave off solely thinking, I am to wed Alec MacBriar. I can touch him and kiss him and smile at him to my heart’s content.

  A happy whoop from behind turned her around just as Malcolm approached, lifting her by the waist in a huge bear hug, spinning her around until she cried out, giggling, and smacked his shoulder. “Put me down, you brute.”

  He did, but then shocked her by kissing her hard directly on her lips. “Aye, and you’re one of us now, truly and always. I’ve got holes in my belly but you got the future MacBriar, so it’s all good, aye?”

  He was delightful, for his joy with the situation, and also for not threatening her life.

  “Are you waiting on my gratitude then?” She teased.

  Malcolm went suddenly very serious and lowered his voice as people began to fill the hall. “Ye deliver me a healthy bairn, see Elle around and through it, I’ll consider all debts settled, aye?”

  Katie nodded, hardly able to imagine the magnificent creature that was Eleanor would have any trouble carrying or bearing children. She struck out her hand and said, “Fair enough.” Malcom took her hand and pumped with enthusiasm and Katie added, “But Malcolm, I do thank you. His scowls alone would never have convinced me to come to Swordmair.”

  He showed his adorable gap-toothed grin. “Aye and dinna I ken it!” And then serious again and very dear. “You keep smiling at him, lass. Happy is a long time coming for him.” With that, he kissed her cheek and was gone.

  Alec appeared then, with Henry skipping alongside him, and made straightaway for Katie. Her cheeks warmed under his heated regard while her heart flipped for the very slow and very handsome smile he gave her.

  “There’s to be an announcement tonight,” he said when he stood before her.

  “And Maddie said I am to sit next to Edric tonight,” Henry said. “And you, too, mam. Up at the big table.”

  Katie smiled at Henry. “That’s quite exciting.” She addressed Alec then with a wee accusation in her grin. “There’s been a few announcements already, I understand.”

  He only shrugged. “Swordmair is verra large, but you ken, also verra small.”

  Henry saw Ronald and Martin then, dashing away to catch up with his friends.

  “So it is,” she said. “Should I expect more death threats if I prove a poor wife?”

  Possibly, her intact grin let him understand that she was more amused than not, even as she still wasn’t sure the warnings were not dire.

  He grinned briefly before asking, “Do you have plans to be a poor wife, lass?”

  It was no hardship at all to give him the truth. “I do not.”

  “It’ll all be good then, aye?”

  She didn’t suppose he often had moments of doubt, was rather intrigued by his want of assurance, as that wasn’t their roles. First, she asked, “Do you have plans to be a good husband?”

  Something darkened in his gaze briefly, extinguished quickly, but Katie was sure she saw something.

  “I do.”

  “I think we’ll do very well together,” she predicted.

  He reached out and took her hand, simply twined his fingers but left them low at their thighs, keeping his gaze on her.

  “Aye, we will.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The shire of Carryd sat snugly in a glen in the shadows of Beinn Arnoch, a curved mountain range hugging the town with gently rolling hills crowded with heather before lifting straight and high, disappearing into the low hanging clouds. The town itself, host to the monthly market, boasted two hostels, a stone-armory which housed a garrison of clan soldiers—MacKenzies, Alec had said—a surfeit of thatched cottages, some two stories high, and in the distance, far outside the town stood a steepled parish church, whose entire north yard was peppered with gravestones.

  The market itself ran the length of the main road, which dissected the glen almost perfectly in half. Stalls and tents were erected, fit wherever they might, one atop another. Some local residents sold wares directly from their homes, their window boards ingeniously hinged from the top that only a stout stick or pole was needed to keep the window open that whatever items were being sold could be perused merely by peeking within.

  They’d been afoot within the market for nearly half an hour when Katie despaired to Eleanor that she had yet to find any vendor offering readymade frocks.

  “We’ve no’ been through but a quarter of the booths,” Eleanor reasoned, seemingly unconcerned.

  It had not escaped Katie’s notice that they—specifically Alec and Malcolm and Eleanor—drew much attention. There were other soldiers about, from near and far the different plaids said, but none of a size with these three. Mostly a path was cleared as they walked about, Eleanor walking in the middle of the aisle that she could examine the offerings on both her left and right, indifferent about the possibility that she might block someone’s path or that people were forced to scurry around her if she stopped to inspect anything closely.

  At one point Eleanor turned around, walking backwards as she called out to Alec, who with Malcom, walked several paces behind the two women. “I dinna see that smithy yet. Remember him, the one from near Dornoch?”

  “Aye,” Malcolm replied. “That was some fine metal.”

  “But first, he needs to find her a wedding gown,” Eleanor said, her goading smirk moving from Katie to Alec.

  Embarrassed, because she did not want Alec to think she put Eleanor up to that, or that she wanted or needed a gown that she would wear but one day, she was quick to throw over her shoulder at Alec, “That is Eleanor talking and not me. I need nothing. We’re here for Eleanor.”

  “Gotta have a wedding frock, lass,” Malcolm said. “Bad omen to wed in everyday things.”

  Now Katie turned around, though she did not continue to walk as Eleanor had, but stopped so that the two men caught up with her. To Malcolm, she accused, “I think you’re making that up.” To Alec, she repeated, “I need nothing.” She wasn’t about to spend her precious coin on a frock.

  Alec wasn’t persuaded, but by Malcolm. “He’s right, though. Bad omen.”

  She studied his hazel eyes, looking for any sign of lightness, that he might be jesting. “It is not...is it?”

  “Aye.” He bent his face toward her as Malcolm continued on, catching up with Eleanor. “I dinna come to the market to shop for Elle,” Alec said. “I’m here for you. Did you no’ have a new frock when you married before?”

  “I did not.”

  “You need no trappings to make you bonny, Katie, but I would no’ mind seeing you in finer clothes for the wedding. You ken it’ll be a huge feast. The laird’s son plans on wedding only once.”

  There was a lot said just there, a lot of information come her way, but Katie heard first that Alec thought she was pretty, and then, “A huge feast?” She really disliked being the center of attentio
n.

  He grinned and took her arm, steering her to follow Malcolm and Eleanor. “Aye, to last for several days. Swordmair is no small keep and the MacBriars have kin in many counties and clans. People will come from all over the highlands.”

  “Are you serious?” She thought they’d wed before the laird and mistress and the soldiers and the folks of Swordmair, hadn’t in her wildest imagination thought it would involve any but those. Good grief.

  “Aye, and so you’ll have your wedding frock, like it or no’.”

  She fussed no more. The woman in her, the one who’d been forced by necessity to make gowns and kirtles last for years and years was not about to argue further against something new and fine, certainly if she were to be ogled and judged by so many people.

  Malcolm and Eleanor had stopped at a booth, leaving the middle of the road to crowd into the linen canopied stall. Alec led Katie to their side, using his large size to clear a space for her amongst the eager shoppers. As this booth was so crowded, Katie didn’t realize until she stood front and center that this was a baker’s booth, the shelves and counter filled with delectable treats.

  Eleanor turned, holding a slab of bread, the center of which was filled with raisins and currants and spices. One corner was missing already, and Eleanor was licking her fingers. She shrugged at Katie and spoke around the food in her mouth. “No sense coming to the market if you’re no’ going to enjoy the fare.”

  “Ooh,” Katie cooed.

  “Aye, two,” Alec said then to the vendor, pulling coin from a pouch inside his tunic.

  Her eyes widened when he pressed a piece into her hands. The meals at Swordmair were always plentiful and tasty, and so much more pleasing than anything Katie had ever known, but Katie had never seen anything like this on her trencher.

  Stepping away from the stall that other hungry buyers might find a spot, Katie stopped near Malcolm and Eleanor, finishing off their treats, and took a small bite herself. She closed her eyes and let her shoulders fall in sublime delight. When she opened them, Alec was standing close, enjoying his own fruit bread.

  “I like that look on you, Katie.” His voice was seductive, causing a stir in her belly that the treat was instantly forgotten. He bent low and said at her cheek, “I can no’ imagine I’m going to be able to wait until we’re wed to give you that look again myself.”

  Katie gulped and swallowed, tilting her face to him. Their lips were close. She blinked rapidly and met his gaze, only inches away.

  “Aw, c’mon on now,” cried Malcolm, a whine to his tone, “ye canna be seducing the lass right here in the market.”

  Neither Alec nor Katie moved, their eyes locked. Until he grinned, with leisurely charm and so much promise in his hazel eyes and stepped away from her.

  Katie released her breath, the forgotten bread held near her waist. She met Eleanor’s eye, which she then proceeded to roll when she had Katie’s attention.

  They browsed yet more, only approaching a few booths, if their interest was piqued enough. It wasn’t until another hour had passed that they finally found some clothiers when a thought struck Katie.

  She crept up close to Eleanor, who was grimacing as she held up a bright green and yellow woolen fabric.

  “Does Alec get a say in my wedding gown?”

  Eleanor turned the frown onto Katie. “Why are ye asking me this?”

  “Because I don’t know the answer.”

  Dropping the unpleasant fabric, Eleanor held up her hand and clarified, “Nae, I mean why are ye asking me? Why would ye ken I might have the answer?”

  With a hopeful look, Katie said, “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

  “Supposing that ye even asked means ye’d given it some thought, so maybe you dinna want his say. Aye, and let’s get rid of them anyway for a while,” Eleanor said, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Alec and Malcolm. “because if he asks me once more if I feel all right, if I’m tired, or if I should be eating whatever I’m shoving into my mouth, I’ll be bringing a fatherless bairn into the world.” And with that she pivoted and addressed them. “Go on, then. She dinna want you to see the thing before you need to. Bad omen, anyhow.” She waved her hand, shooing them away.

  Katie had found a glorious frock in a rich mauve and lifted it up to Eleanor’s shoulders from behind when she noticed Alec still hovering outside the booth.

  Eleanor saw this as well, wondering to Alec, “Why are you still here?”

  “It’s crowded, lass,” he said, addressing his answer to Katie, shifting his weight onto one hip, his hand familiarly upon the hilt of his sword. “Too many people. I dinna like leaving you—”

  “Good grief. Elle’s right here.”

  “Aye, but she’s...”

  Katie gasped and whispered behind Elle’s back. “Did you tell him?”

  “I dinna have to. The quacking duck with the orange hair did.”

  Grinning, Katie called out to Alec. “We’re fine. We won’t be long.”

  “Hope he lets ye breathe when you’re wed,” Eleanor grumbled under her breath.

  Alec finally obliged but stepped forward to plunk his coin purse into Elle’s hands, saying, “Whatever she wants, but she’s to buy her finery for the wedding.”

  He did then amble away that Katie returned her attention to the gown in her hands. “Elle, look at this. This color would be so amazing with your eyes.”

  Eleanor glanced around first, likely to be sure not one person witnessed the warrior even considering frilly frocks, before she pulled the skirt toward her. “It’s soft,” she allowed.

  “It’ll feel like heaven against your skin, I’m sure.”

  Frowning over the neckline, which was indeed low, Eleanor made another face. “Drafty. Aye but we’re to be finding your togs for the wedding.”

  “Very well. It has just occurred to me, Elle, that finding the clothiers might have been the easy part. Finding one with something to fit your height is going to be difficult. We may, in the end, be forced to make it ourselves.”

  LEANING AGAINST THE corner of the larger hostel, Alec shifted his jaw and kept his gaze on Katie. She needn’t know that he’d stayed near. Markets were notorious for pickpockets and thieves, and worse, drunkards and fools. He couldn’t remember a market day where a fight or brawl hadn’t broken out, that he felt better keeping her in sight.

  Under normal circumstances, he’d trust Elle to handle anything that might happen, but she was compromised now—Christ, he still couldn’t imagine Elle, a mother, and hell, Malcolm, father to a child. He’d known previously what they’d been up to but hadn’t considered it any of his business since neither of them had ever let it affect their positions as his officers. But he’d thought it had ended last year, hadn’t any idea when it had started up again.

  Malcolm, less concerned with the lasses than Alec, had entered the hostel, the front pub section, hoping for an ale colder than what these traveling vendors or his own flask could provide. He returned in good time, likewise putting his shoulder into the stone of the building, sipping quietly, his gaze wandering, not at all concentrating on Eleanor and Katie.

  Alec turned when Malcolm tapped him on the arm. Following the direction in which Malcolm stared, Alec watched a half dozen soldiers strutting down the road, young and loud and happy to be seen and heard.

  “Those Sutherland plaids?” Malcolm wondered.

  “Next generation,” Alec guessed. “The rest are gone.”

  Malcolm lifted his brow with some inquiry.

  “Aye, had word from Lach Maitland that Iain McEwen had some quarrel with them.” He gave a wry chuckle. “And when the Sutherlands went to Berriedale, intent on destruction, our own king happened to be within spitting distance, literally stumbled upon the fight. Wiped ’em out.”

  “No?”

  “Aye. Robert Bruce ambled into the fray.”

  Malcolm grinned widely, shaking his head at the very thought. “I love that man.”

  Alec chuckled and nodded, and their attention
was returned again to the youths in the Sutherland plaids.

  “That’s some bollocks, stepping outside Sutherland,” Malcolm commented.

  “Aye, and making their presence known so freely.”

  Alec split his gaze between Katie and those lads then, shaking his head when two of the youths began harassing a bonny lass, tugging at her shawl and then at her hair. Another woman, twice the age of the lass, put the girl behind her, and slapped at the boy’s hand. Laughing, the group ambled away.

  Alec and Malcolm straightened away from the building, but did not immediately step forward, even as they neared the booth where Katie still browsed frocks and kirtles and fabrics, her back to the road. However, poor timing had her turning, searching for Elle, her hands filled with some creamy fabric.

  Elle, Alec was happy to see, had already made note of the lads, had one eye on them as they neared, nodding to Katie at the same time, giving her approval it seemed.

  Aye, but those Sutherlands had noticed Katie. She was hard to miss. Beauty aside, she seemed to be the only blonde in the general area, her hair uncovered and unbraided, but twisted up into that familiar knot, bright as a beacon. And then she laughed, presumably at Elle’s seeming disinterest, that indeed she did draw the attention of those lads.

  Alec and Malcolm moved just as one of the Sutherland’s smacked the arm of the other and pointed to Katie. They aimed then for the booth, pretending initially to be inspecting the wares.

  Elle closed in on them, putting herself directly in their path as they made to get closer to Katie. Casually, Elle put her hands onto her belt. A dark-haired lad, his nose unfortunately long, began to give Elle grief.

  The words didn’t matter, they were always the same when Elle postured before lesser beings. What do we have here? Check between her legs! Get home, woman, back to the hearth!

  The beaked-lad flicked his fingers against the fur at Elle’s shoulders.